


Love Never Dies (A Natural Death)

by ohcoolnice (Angiestrangelittlecorner)



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Adhd lucie, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Christopher is everything, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Titles, ITS THE ONLY THING I KNOW, M/M, Serial Killers, What Have I Done, at some point Cordelia is gonna make perfumes, but i've been planning this fic for so long, cassie whyyyy, fake dating au cause that's literally itt, fight me, for cordelia, grace is a low-key jordelia shipper, i don't know what to tag, i'm poor so i don't know how shit works k, james is a simp, just cause, literally I love him, so many characters asdfg, they're so rich, watch me not finish it like the fool i am
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 00:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30063912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angiestrangelittlecorner/pseuds/ohcoolnice
Summary: Cordelia thought college would be simple: hanging out with Lucie, her best friend, cramming the night before exams. What she did not expect was all of this. Her roommate is hiding a wanted acused murderer in their apartment, Cordelia herself is in a fake relationship with the boy she's in love with, her brother won't talk to her, and Christopher Lighwood keeps blowing things up.
Relationships: Alastair Carstairs/Thomas Lightwood, Cordelia Carstairs & Lucie Herondale, Cordelia Carstairs/James Herondale, Grace Blackthorn/Christopher Lightwood, James Herondale & Christopher Lightwood & Thomas Lightwood & Matthew Fairchild & Cordelia Carstairs, Jesse Blackthorn/Lucie Herondale, Matthew Fairchild & James Herondale, Matthew Fairchild/sobriety, Matthew Fairchild/therapy, please cassie
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	Love Never Dies (A Natural Death)

**Author's Note:**

> Ah yes, no plot development in this chapter? Excellent. Just James simping for 15 pages. No biggie. Also, I mention Lucie taking Adhd meds, and that's because y'all can pry ADHD Lucie from my cold, dead hands.  
> And this chapter is so long I like half-edited it so i'm so sorry I'f it's half nonsensical.  
> I wanted to do a prologue for this story....but I didn't write it so I guess it ain't happening.  
> (Also please forgive me for the lack of Alastair in this chapter. 15 PAGES Y'ALL. ITS TOO MUCH FOR MY BRAIN)  
> K, Enjoy!

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.”  
― Federico García Lorca, _Blood Wedding and Yerma_

“How much longer?” Cordelia asked for the nine hundredth time, ignoring Alastair’s annoyed glare in the rear-view mirror.

“About two minutes, Layla,” her mother, Sona, replied with an amused smile.

“You don’t have to ask every two minutes.” Alastair grumbled. Sona hit his shoulder with the back of her hand.

Cordelia bit her lip in excitement as the car sped along the highway, her knee bouncing up and down. Two minutes and she would see Lucie again, she would see _James_ again.

She could see the campus poking over the tops of the trees ahead as they turned into a long driveway flanked by rows of trees on either side. Cordelia turned in her seat to check on the car behind them, filled with Alastair and Cordelia’s clothes and things. Risa smiled and waved at her from behind the wheel. Cordelia beamed.

Sona gasped and Cordelia turned around in her seat immediately. “Maman? What is it?”

“Look Cordelia! Isn’t it lovely ?”

Cordelia unclicked her seatbelt to lean between the two seats, and sighed.

It was _beautiful_. The Academy was a massive campus just outside London known for it’s (very) high tuition prices, excellent education, and, most notable, beautiful gothic campus. Massive buildings like cathedrals framed a large courtyard overrun with students hurrying about with their suitcases and parents to find classes, dorms, activites activities. Cordelia giggled and clapped her hands. “It’s incredible!”

Alistair rolled his eyes. “I’ve shown you photos before.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re not a photographer then. Obviously, you didn’t capture the beauty.” Cordelia teased, though it wasn't true. Alastair’s photos didn’t need to be professional to prove the campus was like a fairytale. It was only that there was a difference between being shown a photo and actually _being_ there.

Cordelia squealed suddenly, clutching at her brothers shoulder and squeezing.

“Ow! Cordelia, stop!” Alistair yelled, pulling his arm away.

“Sorry! But _look!_ ” She pointed to their left, where Lucie, her best friend, was jumping up and down, her arms wild as she spotted their car. She wore a pretty pink dress with white flowers and had silver pins in her hair, pulled back into a braided bun. Strands had come loose as she jumped, her bangs wild and just as Cordelia remembered. She squealed again. Alastair slouched in his seat.

They pulled into a parking spot and Cordelia hurried out, running over to her best friend, who was screaming and attracting _lots_ of attention from around them. Lucie wrapped her arms around Cordelia, still jumping. Cordelia giggled. She'd missed Lucie, dearly. They usually spent their summers together but Cordelia had been in Paris this summer with her family, after her father had been arrested.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here!” Lucie squealed. “We’ve been waiting for _hours_.”

“Well, really only twelve minutes, but who’s counting,” replied an amused voice behind her. Cordelia turned, heart beating in her chest. _James!_ Her mind screamed. _It’s James!_

 _I know_ , she told herself, _shut up._

James smiled at her, chin dimple making her forget that staring was rude, and she saw her life flash before her eyes briefly at the sight of him. How was it you could forget the way someone looked? She had thought of James nearly every day, and yet she'd forgotten the way he made her heart flutter in her chest. “Hello, Daisy.”

Cordelia smiled shyly. “Hello James.”

“Goodbye James.” Sang Lucie, tugging Cordelia away. “Come, let’s go take the tour while the boys unload our things.”

“It’s boring!” James called after them.

“You’re boring!” Lucie called back.

Cordelia smiled and took a last glance at her own brother, who was frowning at his phone. She'd barely seen him all summer, despite their literally living in the same place, and when she had seen him he didn't talk to her much. Or, he’d tell her he was too busy. She wanted to remind him that though he had better things to do than watch after his baby sister, she was still his sister in the end, and she'd done nothing to deserve being ignored. He’d been different when he’d returned home after the school year this summer, and she desperatley wanted to know what was wrong with him.

 _Later_. She would find out, she resolved. _But first, the tour_. Cordelia ran towards the tour group, giggling with Lucie, their future waiting for them.

.

“Who knew the future would involve so much _standing_.” Lucie whined as two and a half hours later, they dragged their feet into their apartment. “I thought it would never end.”

The tour had been exhausting, going through the entire campus and, if Cordelia was being honest, she didn’t even pay attention after the first ten minutes. It was mostly Lucie’s fault, pointing out silly things, like drawings on walls, or making up an elaborate story for some random person they saw carrying a suitcase that looked like a coffin. Apparently he was a Duke that had gone to kidnap a beautiful princess, only to find she was dead, and now he was trying to find a way to bring her back to life. Cordelia had made Lucie promise not to put that in _The Beautiful Cordelia_.

James and Alastair were still there when they arrived, having brought the last of the boxes. They both looked frustrated, though Cordelia had seen the same expression on her brother when she’d left for the tour, and when they’d left the house, so she didn’t worry too much over it. Alastair had said something vague about having a meeting, and left almost as soon as they’d seen him, though he’d made the both of them swear not to stay up too late before hurrying down the hall.

James, setting a box on the coffee table, brightened when he saw them, and her traitorous heart fluttered in her chest.

“How was the tour?” He asked.

“Boring,” Lucie pouted, “you were right.”

James laughed, eyes glimmering with mischief. “Maybe you should change cruel Prince James to _wise_ Prince James.”

“Wise-ass, maybe.” Lucie crossed her arms. Cordelia snorted, slapping a hand over her mouth. Lucie looked incredibly pleased with herself. James rolled his eyes, though a smile played at his lips.

Cordelia couldn’t help but stare at him. She hadn’t seen James for a year. Spending time with Lucie at the Herondales place after school was fun when it was just them two, of course, but it just wasn’t the same without his presence. She kept expecting him to come in and annoy his sister, or tell Cordelia about the last book he’d read, smiling shyly when he’d ask if she’d like to borrow it. After a few months, she stopped forgetting he was gone, and instead simply missed him.

She hadn’t realised that she’d forgotten how it was to be near him again, his presence suddenly a real, tangible thing that she could feel around her like a soft blanket.

“You’re sure you’ll be alright unpacking on your own?” James asked.

Lucie waved her hand dismissively, her movements much less energetic than they normally were. “Oh, absolutely not. But I think Daisy and I have been both mentally and physically drained from that never ending torture tour.”

Cordelia groaned, nodding. “If I sit down even once tonight, I don’t think I’ll be able to stand up again.”

James grinned at her and raised his hands defensively, “Alright, I’ll let you two get to bed then.”

“Though,” Lucie piped up as her brother turned away, “if you could bring the Thieves ‘round tomorrow at lunch, that would be extremely helpful, and then Cordelia could meet them.”

James nodded, and Lucie trudged to her room, peering inside boxes to find a blanket. He paused at the door, turning to smile at Cordelia over his shoulder. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Daisy.”

“Yes, you as well,” she said, “it hasn’t been the same without Lucie complaining about her brother.”

He laughed, his cheek dimpling. _I’m going to die._ “I don’t think _she_ missed that bit.”

James’ phone rang and he peered down at it. Cordelia looked over at where Lucie was struggling to pull a blanket from one of the boxes. “She did miss it, I think, and you, more than she says. I missed you too.”

He hesitated at the door, not bringing the phone to his ear, though he’d answered it. The caller was repeating James’ name, clearly annoyed. She could hear ‘ _You wet sock! James? Helloooo?_ ’

James’ attention seemed to be fixed on Cordelia, his eyes on hers in that way he had – where he could make her feel as if there was no one else in the world but the two of them, as if he was looking at her and never wanted to look at anything else again. Like she was the only thing worth looking at.

One side of his mouth lifted shyly. “I missed you too.”

.

Cordelia and Lucie had only found one blanket, and both collapsed onto Lucie’s bed as soon as they’d seen it. Cordelia woke to find she herself was sprawled along the foot of the bed, her bra pressing against her ribcage uncomfortably. Lucie was sprawled over the rest of the bed, her brown hair still in it’s bun and crimped, sticking out at all angles. Her legs dangled over the side of the mattress. Cordelia sat up, rubbing her face. She’d fallen asleep on her wrist, and could feel the shape of her bracelet’s charms where they pressed into her cheek.

Sunlight filtered through the window, and as Cordelia moved to sit up her breath sent the bits of dust suspended in the air into a swirling dance. She watched them as her brain caught up with her body.

Cordelia nudged Lucie. No movement. She nudged her again.

Lucie snorted and flung an arm up, hitting Cordelia in the face. She yelped and stumbled, falling on her friend’s stomach, causing her to wheeze suddenly, groaning as she was successfully, _finally_ , awake.

 _But at what cost_? Cordelia groaned internally, rolling off the other girl with her hand on her face.

Lucie sat up, pouting. “Ow.”

“You hit _me_!”

“Well, _you_ tried to wake me up.” Lucie huffed and burst into sleepy giggles. “Sorry.”

Cordelia couldn’t help but smile. She really was lucky to have the friendship she did. She knew not everyone had something like it. Her brother did not, her mother had never mentioned anyone who had been particularly close with her in her life – though she was always loved by everyone she met.

Her father, she supposed, she did not know. She’d never really thought of it. Certainly not, if no one had stepped in to defend him when he’d been sent to jail for something she _knew_ he didn’t do. Her father was a good man – a _great_ man, who had only ever loved and cared for her.

A knock at the door broke her thoughts. The two girls exchanged a frantic glance, Lucie practically flying off the bed and looking around for a comb. Cordelia, who had kept her knapsack next to the bed, all the items inside artfully arranged, produced one, and made her way hurriedly to brush her teeth, hearing Lucie complain as the comb got stuck in the tangled fine stands.

There was another series of knocking and banging at the door. “Shut up, James!” Lucie called out from the bedroom.

“Open the door then!” Came the muffled reply. “I don’t care if you look like medusa, I’ve been living with the horrors my whole life!”

Cordelia choked on the toothpaste. Someone in the hall opened the door and yelled at James to shut up.

“Daisy?” James pleaded. The doors were rather thin, Cordelia thought, James’ voice was only a little muffled.

Cordelia crossed the room to speak against the door, pulling her hair up into a messy high ponytail. “Sorry,” she said, “I won’t betray Lucie.”

There was a pause, “I suppose I cannot say much to that, then. Very honourable—"

“Oh, _honestly_ James,” Cordelia gasped, startled at the sound of a second voice – she hadn’t known anyone else was there, “ _enough_ of all of that – LUCIE OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR!”

“Matthew, shush!” Lucie scolded, indignant, appearing at Cordelia’s side. She opened the door and Cordelia blinked as four young men stumbled over each other into her apartment.

A taller blond had been leaning on the door and stumbled once it was flung open. Matthew Fairchild, she remembered meeting him once when she’d gone to stay with the Herondales over school break one year, though they’d only met for a few minutes and barely exchanged more than a few pleasantries. Though even if she’d never met him she recognised him from Lucie’s letters as exactly the way she’d described him.

The boys tripped over each other. James recovered first, standing up and brushing himself off quickly, his eyes finding her and his easy smile warming her heart. “Good morning Cordelia.”

.

She looked over at Lucie, who mouthed _Christopher_ . Cordelia mouthed _Oh_ back. Lucie grinned. Cordelia smiled – they were exactly as Lucie had described them: Christopher as curious and sweet, Thomas as kind, and Matthew as mischievous.

Thomas - she’d recognised from Alastair’s class photos – had shaken her hand upon entry, tall and broad shouldered. He carried himself as Alastair had described once, when she’d asked him what James’ friends were like, since they’d attended school together.

Alastair had shrugged, “I did not really know them, Layla. You know how it was for me.”

“Surely you must know _something_ ,” she’d asked, pouting.

Alastair sighed, “You already know James, the Matthew fellow is quite his opposite, I suppose. A rather impulsive one. And the two lightwoods—” he hesitated, “they’re not horrible, really. Thomas is…he carries himself well.”

“Lucie says he’s rather tall.” She pressed, taking advantage of the fact that he was opening up, even if it was just about others.

“Well, it’s not so horrible as she makes it sound,” he scoffed, “he carries himself well.”

And indeed, he did, Cordelia noticed Thomas did not lumber around, but stood straight, aware of his height and build – there was confidence, she noticed, beneath a quiet, polite exterior.

Cordelia took his hand, “It’s lovely to meet you,” she smiled, “finally after hearing so much from Lucie and my brother.”

Thomas blinked. “Your brother – Alastair?”

“Erm, yes.” She froze, realising that Alastair hadn’t exactly been kind to them in the past. “My apologies, nothing bad, I assure you. I know he was not kind always—”

Thomas blushed, but smiled nonetheless, “He was kind to me in Paris. We are friends, I think.”

Cordelia did not know what to say to that. She hadn’t known he’d met Alastair in Paris, but she didn’t have the heart to say anything, so she simply smiled.

It was a sharp reminder of how little she was aware of, how much she’d missed out in her life, shut out from life, from the world, traveling, never staying anywhere long enough to form connections.

A wave of gratitude washed over Cordelia, and she found herself hugging Lucie a moment later. In a life of loneliness and solitude, Lucie had always been there, bright and smiling, doing everything to make her feel loved and supported, even from countries away.

They’d spent the day unpacking boxes and collapsed, collectively, on the couch and armchairs in the living room. The image of it all was so very new to Cordelia she’d nearly cried. They’d been so welcoming of her, despite their differences with her brother, and by the end of the day she’d found herself falling asleep to the sound of the Merry Thieves (she found the name adorable, and even more so since they seemed to find it _very_ cool) bickering and singing showtunes over a game of cards.

Cordelia had lived in so many homes, but now she _felt_ at home.

\-----

“Jamie _bach_ ,” Matthew said, exasperated, “it’s a bloody formality, we don’t _need_ to go.”

James stared at his best friend.

“Fine. I don’t _want_ to go.”

“I promised Lucie and Cordelia, and you are an extension of that promise, so you have to be there.” Matthew made a mocking noise and crossed his arms in a pout. James ignored this. “Besides, Thomas and Christopher will also be there, and Anna as well.”

Matthew groaned and flopped backwards onto James’ bed, the blonde strands of hair contrasting against the black duvet. James rolled his eyes and turned to the mirror to finish buttoning his shirt. The silver bracelet on his wrist flashed under the cuff of his sleeve.

“I don’t see what the issue is, you’ve already dressed.” James pointed out.

It was true: Matthew was, as always, dressed to impress. While most of the men their age dressed simple tailored suits with matching waistcoats, all in one colour as if they were attending a business meeting cosplaying as fruit, Matthew always styled himself for these events in beautiful, brocaded waistcoats beneath matching tailored trousers and fitted jacket in a complimenting colour, every inch of fabric deliberate and thought out. Tonight, his waistcoat was a soft faded mossy green, his trousers and tailored coat – thrown across James’ bed next to him – the same deep green as his eyes.

James felt as underdressed as he always did next to Matthew. He didn’t mind – it was how it had always been.

Matthew looked down at his outfit. “Very true. Waste of a good outfit if it’s not seen.”

James smiled. “Besides,” he said, slowly, not looking at Matthew, “Grace will be there. I should like you to meet her.”

Matthew sat up. James didn’t need to turn to know he was frowning. “ _Really_ ?” Matthew’s voice was as dry as his older brother. “What joy that brings me. I do _adore_ your girlfriend. I suppose I cannot resist, then.”

“She isn’t my girlfriend,” James sighed, “We have an understanding, is all.”

Matthew snorted, mimicking James in a high voice. “I love her, my heart _yearns_ to be with her forever and ever!” He sighed dramatically, rolling around on the bed with his hand on his heart. He sat up abruptly. “But no, she’s not my girlfriend.”

Matthew grinned at James’ dry look and pretended to flip his hair over his shoulder.

“You’ve never met her, Math. I don’t know why you don’t like her without meeting her first.”

“And I don’t know why you _do_. So, I suppose that, in this instance, we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

James didn’t like arguing with Matthew, they rarely ever did, so he let the topic drop. James turned from the mirror, jerking his head towards the door. “Let’s go, then.”

“Hurrah.” Matthew muttered, but he dragged himself up and slipped into his jacket, following James out the door.

“How did you find Daisy?” James found himself asking as they walked across the large field separating the student apartment buildings. Students were already making their way to the main campus, giggling and chatting loudly with friends.

“Daisy?” Matthew blinked. James noticed how slow that blink was and realised with an inward sigh that Matthew was, again, Drunk. _I should say something_. He thought. But no, he couldn’t, could he. Not now, not tonight. Matthew would get upset, again, and storm off, likely to only drink more. At least, if he said nothing, he could watch the amount his friend was consuming, and take it away from him if necessary. “Oh,” Matthew was saying, “you mean Cordelia?”

“I-yes.”

“She’s…well,” he laughed, “not much like her brother is she. Certainly, much more friendly. I daresay, though, I was not skeptical since I know you and Lucie would not have loved her as you do if she was as horrible as Alastair.”

 _Loved her, as you do_. James said nothing, the words sitting strangely in his heart. He did care for Cordelia, but something about the way Matthew had said it was sending his thoughts into a frenzy. Was it that he said that James loved Cordelia? No, James was sure he did. And Matthew had said it exactly right – that James loved Cordelia as a friend, which they were. It wasn’t as if—

“Jamie?” Matthew leaned down to wave a hand in James’ face. “Where have you gone, brother?”

James shook his head. “I don’t know. Matthew, do be careful about what you say of Alastair to Daisy.” _Daisy._ “She loves her brother very much.”

“Says more about her than it does him. Angel knows he doesn’t deserve it.” Matthew grumbled, rolling his eyes at James’ glare. “Yes, alright, I’ll try my best not to mention Alastair Carstairs at all, all night.”

James opened his mouth to respond, but they’d made it to Lucie and Cordelia’s building, and all words died from his lips. _Oh_.

Cordelia and Lucie were already waiting for them, engaged in conversation with—

“What in the Angel’s name is Voldemort doing here?” Matthew hissed, adding in a low whisper, “you said not to mention him so I shall refer to him as he-who-shall-not-be-named.”

“Matthew.”

“Yes, it’s rather long, isn’t it? Perhaps ‘ _horrid creature’_ would do better.”

“ _Matthew_.”

Matthew ignored him, plastering a bright smile on his face as they neared. “ _Alastair Carstairs_ ! What an _absolute_ pleasure!”

James dropped his face into his hands.

.

Much to Matthew’s evident relief, Alastair had excused himself once they’d arrived, announcing that he was off to look for Charles, Matthew’s older brother.

Thomas and Christopher and the rest of their set had yet to arrive (apparently Christopher had made some sort of scientific discovery and was holding them up, though James knew Barbara, the younger of Thomas’ two sisters, would soon grow impatient and drag them out).

Music began to swell as the hall began to fill up with students. The room was massive, about the size of their football field, and it’s high gothic ceilings were decorated with lights like stars, filling the dark space with a dim light. Tables lined the walls on either side, and all the entrances had been turned into arches of light and James found himself watching Cordelia as she looked up, her head tipping back. Her hair was gathered elegantly at the back of her head, adorned with pearls he remembered seeing in his sister’s hair before. James wanted to reach out and take the pins from her hair and watch the red curls spill down her back.

 _Grace_ , James told himself, _you love Grace_.

And yet he hadn’t seen Cordelia in a year. He’d thought of her often during that year, but hadn’t he’d always kept her in his thoughts, in his dreams, since they were young? It shouldn’t have been any different now. And he hadn’t thought anything of his own eagerness to see Daisy as anything other than because they were friends, because Lucie would be ecstatic.

It had seemed not even a bit out of place, not even when Matthew had pointed out that James had been acting very energetic all week. And then he’d seen her again, leaping out of her car and running towards Lucie, her red hair pulled back, a smile – the same smile he’d always known – arresting him where he stood.

She wasn’t beautiful; saying she was beautiful would be to say the sky was simply blue and that was all the qualities it possessed. No, Cordelia – where she’d always been pretty, funny, kind – was suddenly older, more serious, her eyes and lips sharper and her smile more assured.

She didn’t run along with Lucie the way he remembered, but she carried herself next to his sister with her shoulders back and her head raised, looking for all the world like a warrior striding through battle. James knew if he didn’t look away he might die. James wondered if it would be so bad to die.

 _Grace_ , he repeated, _you love Grace._

Lucie cut through his thoughts, grinning like the devil. “Cordelia looks beautiful, does she not?”

James glared at his sister, who beamed innocently.

It was no secret, since they were young and Lucie tried to marry the pair of them in an ambush ceremony in the forest near their summer home, that Lucie believed very firmly that James and Cordelia were ‘meant to be together’. He pushed the thought from his mind. Lucie had said those words when she was seven. It meant nothing. And Lucie had only said it because she’d discovered that if Cordelia married James, she would be her sister.

James had often asked himself if he should think of Cordelia as his sister, the way Lucie did. But he did not.

They were looking at James, the three of them, Matthew looking from Lucie to Cordelia to James in amusement, a curious glint to his smile, Lucie, smiling despite her earlier attempts to appear innocent. And Cordelia, well, she seemed as put on the spot as he did, and a bit apologetic, as if she expected James not to have an answer. It did not matter, he did.

“She always has.” James said, before really thinking it through. Matthew squinted at his friend, and shook his head smiling. He turned to Lucie with a hand extended.

“I am bored. Let’s dance.” He said, and Lucie giggled as she took his hand, running into the crowd, the layers of her light blue gown floating around her.

James and Cordelia stood in an awkward silence for the first time since the first time they’d met. The only difference now was they were much older, and he didn’t have a pile of books to distract her away from the fact that he was less confident than he supposed he appeared to be. At least now there was comfort in the fact that he knew Cordelia, too, would rather be somewhere else, curled up by the fire reading a book like they had as children, James letting the sound of her voice wash over him, making comments and jokes that would make her laugh or scold him for interrupting a good part of the story.

The song ended and faded into another, people moving to pair up and waltz around the space. He looked up at a movement behind Cordelia. James paled.

Rosamund Wentworth was on her way to him, her eyes frighteningly determined. James made a panicked noise and Cordelia scrunched up her face in confusion. “Daisy, would you like to dance?”

Cordelia blinked. Rosamund was almost on them now, and James could feel himself bouncing on his toes, pleading with his eyes. Cordelia looked quickly over her shoulder, where the other girl was trying to get around a couple dancing wildly off-beat. When she looked back at James, she was nearly laughing. “Well, what kind of a friend would I be if I did not save you from all the mad women throwing themselves at you.”

James gave her a look that suggested he wasn’t amused – though he was smiling despite himself – and took her hand, pulling her into an impromptu dance just as Rosamund was finally on them. He smiled at her apologetically and pulled Cordelia into the middle of the room.

Cordelia laughed. “Does that happen often?”

“With Rosamund?” James chuckled. “Unfortunately.”

“Just with her?” Cordelia asked, and then blushed, her cheeks darkening in the dim light, as if she hadn’t meant to ask.

James tipped his head to the side as the room swirled around them, “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing it’s just, well,” she looked around the room, everywhere but at him. He wished she would, “you’re not hideous, James. And Lucie said you became insufferably popular.”

James laughed. “And do _you_ think I’m insufferable?”

“I don’t think we’ve seen each other for long enough to determine that.” She giggled as he twirled her, the deep blue of her dress like liquid twilight, clinging to her curves, reminding him that they were no longer children, that Cordelia was as fierce as she’d always wanted to be. Did she know? Perhaps he should tell her.

James smiled, “Then I suppose the only way to find out is to spend more time together. I shall be as bothersome as possible from now on.”

“Is that a threat?” She was smiling without thinking about it – wide and easy – as striking now as she had been stunning before.

“It’s a promise. I’ve already written it down and set myself reminders. You will—” he broke off, looking up. Grace had arrived. Grace, who he loved. _Grace_. He’d forgotten about her completely from the moment he’d taken Cordelia’s hand. He was horrible. This was a sort of emotional cheating, was it not? James felt wretched.

“James?” Cordelia asked. “James what’s wrong?”

James did not answer, did not know what to say. He had already stepped back from Cordelia, had let go of her hands even though her touch sent sparks across his skin. He didn’t look at her as he crossed the room to Grace, his heart wracked with guilt, with the realization that he’d been dancing with Cordelia and yes, it had been horrible to break away from her, but what kind of a man was he if he let himself betray the woman he loved?

Cordelia was his friend, he reminded himself. She did not feel any particular way about him beyond friendship, and if he was confused, it was not because her presence was like coming home, it was not because her laugh made him want to forget his name, or because talking to her was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life – the sound of her voice was soothing, but that did not mean anything.

His confusion was superficial, he told himself. He couldn’t be lying to himself, to Daisy, to Grace, when all he felt was the shock of seeing someone and realising how the curve of their lips made him want to fall on his knees and worship, how the—

James shook the thoughts away. _Stop it_. He thought forcefully.

James pushed through the crowd and finally reached Grace. She smiled small at him, her eyes wide and bright. “Hello, James.”

“Grace,” He asked, almost mechanically, “would you like to dance?”

She did not smile any wider. Was she unhappy? She seemed like it, almost. She must have seen him with Cordelia. Cordelia, who he would have to apologise to for leaving stranded in the center of the room. Cordelia, who-

 _Enough_.

He took Grace’s hand – small and perfect in his – and led her to the floor as the song slowed.

.

“You must be glad she is here.”

“Who?” James asked, though as soon as he asked he’d known who Grace meant.

“Cordelia Carstairs. You _are_ friends, are you not?” She frowned. “You have spoken of her so much, I cannot think you don’t like her.”

“We are friends, of course. But I don’t like her – no, I mean I _do_ like her, she’s so kind, and she’s funny too, not like Lucie but she makes little comments that are-but I don’t like her in the way you mean. I like her as a friend, is all.” And there was so much he wanted to say: their shared taste in books, how she never made him feel alone, unwanted, how she made everywhere feel like home, but he knew he was going on a bit much, and shut his mouth.

Grace raised a brow. “That _is_ what I meant.”

“Oh.”

Grace looked as if she might be smiling, or trying not too, though he couldn’t imagine what part of this was funny to her. Sometimes it seemed as if Grace was not really all that interested in him as more than friends, though he’d mentioned it once and she’d dismissed it. 

James caught a flash of red and looked up. It was Cordelia, spinning around with Lucie as they laughed together, not following the pace of the dance at all. At least she didn’t appear hurt. Though why should she be? He was just overthinking it. They were only friends.

\----

Returning home that night was strange. Though she could tell Daisy had enjoyed the party, Lucie could tell something was bothering her best friend. But it was late, and Lucie’s meds were wearing off, so she doubted being able to focus on conversation and provide any help. She tried to remind herself to ask Daisy over breakfast tomorrow before class. 

Lucie yawned as they dragged themselves into their apartment. She giggled. “I hope that us coming home this tired doesn’t start becoming a habit.” 

Cordelia breathed a laugh. “I don’t think I’d survive that.” She waved, heading to her room. “Goodnight, Lucie.”

“Sleep well, sister.” Lucie replied, only half paying attention. The light in her room was on. She was sure she’d turned it off. There was a faint breeze as well, as if she’d left the window open. 

It was probably nothing, but being suspicious was always more dramatic.

She swung the door open, and screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay first of all, this chapter is so long. Second of all, James is just...simping over Cordelia this whole chapter I'm so sorry. Basically he's in a sort of relationship with Grace but since there's no magic bracelet he's in love with Cordelia cos DUH.  
> I wanted to include so many scenes in this chapter but it was too long so i'm putting it off until next chapter. I'm planning on only doing ten chapters for this fic (updating once a week).  
> Next week: MURDERRRRRRRRRR (gotta love a mystery with a serial killer. Or is that just me?) and less Jordelia probably (ha sure). More Thomastair cause I couldn't put it in this chapter since it 'didn't make sense'. 
> 
> You can talk to me on my tumblr (@ohcoolnice or @ohcoolnice-art) if you'd like! I'm usually swamped with work but bored and not doing my work!


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